Not So Long Ago
by Etimire T
Summary: What did Castiel possibly do wrong to have to have his memory of the night the angels took away the first born of Egypt not so long ago cleansed from his mind? As usual, following orders is problematic for one of Heaven's youngest angels.


What did Castiel possibly do wrong to have to have his memory of the night the angels visited Egypt cleansed from his mind? As usual, following orders is problematic for one of Heaven's youngest angels.

This story is inspired by a throw-away little conversation Naomi has with Castiel in season 8 when confronting him in a diner.

 _Castiel: We are supposed to be their shepherds, not their murderers._

 _Naomi: Not always, angel. There was that day back in Egypt not so long ago, where we slew every firstborn son whose door wasn't splashed with lambs blood… and that was just PR._

 _Castiel: … Well, I wasn't there._

 _Naomi: Oh. You were there. You just don't remember it._

Castiel had not been on Earth for at least four centuries. He'd been banned after an unfortunate attempt to… well, he wasn't quite sure what it was, but his older siblings assured him it had been very bad. Doubtful. Disobedient. They had saved him just in time. And thank Father for that.

He'd considered not coming. He'd been feeling… well, he'd been _feeling_ again _,_ and he was told that wasn't natural. Someone told him once (although he couldn't recall who) he had 'episodes' because he was one of the angels made just before Father switched from making angels to humans. What did that mean? He was tainted? Castiel couldn't remember ever having one of these episodes, but he took their word for it.

At least, he usually did. Back here on Earth, things were not quite black and white. Did he like that or not?

Insecurity made his throat tight, and he coughed to try to clear it. Even the fact that he felt like that was proof he wasn't like the others. Being on Earth only made this condition worse. Perhaps he should just go home. But no.

With a shake of his head, Castiel pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind. He had a job to do. He had to prove he was ready to be on active duty again.

With a satisfied nod of his head, he looked around curiously at the mud huts of the Israelites currently imprisoned in Egypt. The huts were held together with fronds and tied up with bits of cloth that looked older than the city itself. The Egyptians had better houses for their cattle, the angel mused with a tinge of distaste. Slavery was despicable.

His orders were to take away the first born son of any creature whose door was not covered in lamb's blood. Parts of the South-East section of the city were assigned to him. He'd yet to encounter an uncovered door but he could feel retribution being served by his siblings across the city.

As Castiel made his way down the smelly, dirt crusted street, he picked up on a harsh cry by a young woman. He turned curiously and walked toward the sound. The Jews were instructed to stay inside, yes?

He rounded a corner only to wrinkle his nose in distaste and then in anger. A well-dressed man slapped a young woman across the face and pushed her farther into the mud. "Stop complaining, little-" At a twitch of Castiel's fingers, the man choked and fell to his knees. His shoulders heaved as he struggled to breath. Castiel watched. He wasn't a first born so he had no place to kill him. But there was no reason he couldn't scare the man. Castiel could feel his soul, a black smudge of a thing that relished the girl's pleas.

The girl scrambled to her feet and pulled her rag of a dress back to cover herself. She swiped her crying eyes and met Castiel's eyes. "J-Joshua?" she stuttered.

Castiel came closer to the man and knelt down so he could look him in the eye. "Do not touch her," he said calmly. "This is your only chance."

The Egyptian sneered, and Castiel sighed inwardly. He wished he could say he'd found an Egyptian that had reacted to a warning correctly. After all, this night had been warned of not once, but _ten times_ , as each curse became worse and worse, and it was not as if the rest of the nation had not been aware of the Pharaoh's decisions. They had applauded it. As it was, their nation was filled with more witches and demons and other despicable beings than not. They were despicably corrupt, and Castiel was still looking unsuccessfully for an Egyptian that was not. Their pride; it was like an infection. The closer they were in proximity with pride, the more they picked it up and the worse it became. And there were a great many prideful Egyptians.

"You dare tell me what to do, _Israelite_." The man ground out, despite his lack of air. The last word was said like a curse. He tried to punch him, and Castiel caught his fist. He let the oxygen back into the man's lungs while simultaneously crushing in his grasp the hand that had been about to commit unspeakable acts to the young, Jewish girl. The man's eyes went wider and wider as the bones crumbled like paper within his grasp. He gave a strangled shout, and Castiel released him. He stood and looked down at the crumpled creature at his feet. Honestly, he had seen demons with more pride…

"Go."

The man sobbed in pain and scrambled out of the little alley cradling his ruined hand.

Castiel watched after him, indignation and satisfaction rushing through him in a way it had not since the last time he'd left Heaven. There was something about this planet that made everything so much more… vivid. A smile quipped his lips. He felt alive down here.

However, he swallowed down the _emotions._ He could not deny that that was what they were. They had come and gone for the last year or so, but he but dared not make it known that he was feeling again. His siblings would not approve.

He'd almost forgotten about the girl until he heard her sniff. He glanced at her, and she looked up at him with something like awe. A long scratch ran down her face. A whip mark, he thought. Anger suddenly flipped in his stomach, and he bit his lip, uncomfortable with the unfamiliar feeling.

"I don't understand, Joshua." she whispered. "How did you-?"

"I am not Joshua," he said simply as the anger settled.

The girl stared. Something flashed across her face. Then she nodded. "No. You are not." Israelites were well adjusted to the supernatural, so her reaction was not too much of a surprise.

Not many angels had managed to get vessels on such a short notice, but he'd been lucky, running into this young Jew earlier today. The man had not taken much persuasion. Apparently, he was well aware of what Father was doing, and was more than willing to help punish the people who had treated his people brutally for nearly four hundred years.

Castiel moved past the girl, who was frozen, in shock or fear, he could not discern. However, at the top of the alley, he paused and turned before he could change his mind. "You should go inside," he said. "It is not safe out here tonight. In fact, tell anyone you see to go in as well."

The girl came closer, trembling. "What about you?"

That brought a small smile to his face. "Nothing can harm me, and I will make sure you friend is returned to you in the morning."

She was pale and obviously afraid, but to her credit, the girl only nodded. Faith… what a funny thing. "You are of the one who calls himself I AM?"

Castiel nodded. He stepped forward carefully, so as not to startled her, and brushed a hand across her cheek. Instantly, the cut on her face healed. This time burst of sadness curled up inside Castiel, and he turned away from her hastily. He was not acting rationally. This was not his mission. Why could he not concentrate on the task at hand? _You should go home before you ruin something._

Perhaps they were right. His siblings told him time and again that he was not strong enough to withstand the temptations of the world outside of Heaven. Was this what they meant?

"I have to go."

He spread his wings and disappeared before he did anything else he ought not to, leaving the girl openmouthed in the alleyway. He hoped she would follow his advice and find shelter quickly.

Another street melted into existence around him. This street was much cleaner than the last. Gold painted statues littered the doorways. No blood covering on the door... Castiel flicked at one of the statues meant to 'protect', and it crumbled to ash.

"Hey!" someone whined behind him. He turned to see a dark haired man scowling, propped up on a pillar. His eyes were black and he crossed his arms irritably. A demon. "That was mine! I inspired the craftsman and everything!"

Wonderful. A demon who was not only insolent, but fancied himself an artist. "I would take your leave before I decide to end your demented existence," Castiel stated calmly.

The demon mimed him mockingly. " _End my demented existence,_ I mean _come on_ , sweet-" It stopped short and seemed to realize what he was addressing. " _Ooohhh_." The demon took a step back with an obnoxious smile. "You a- oh my. That's tonight, is it? Must have misplaced my calendar." He snickered.

Castiel waited, an eyebrow arched. "You have exactly two seconds to make yourself scarce."

"Gotcha, commando."

He disappeared in a swirl of smoke, and Castiel waited a moment to make sure he did not reappear. When the demon did not, Castiel entered the house. He located the first born quickly. It was a burly man who slept in the embrace of two… no, three women. And one of them he was pretty sure was closely related to the man. Very related. They were all sleeping. Castiel wondered how they could be so idiotic. They _knew_ this was coming. They had seen the nine other plagues and knew that the Jews were safe from the curses. If they were not so stubborn, they easily could have asked for the protection the Jews had. One question and they'd be saved, covered by the blood.

But Castiel supposed this had to happen. There was an ironic sense of dark humor and justice in this punishment. The Egyptians had spent decades murdering the first born children of the Jews.

He touched the man's forehead and took hold of his soul. He pulled, and the murky soul came spilling into his hands. Usually, reapers did this sort of thing, but not this time. He lifted the soul in the air, and it zipped out of his hand and through the ceiling. Heaven or Hell destined, Castiel did not know. That was not his responsibility.

He left the Egyptian family and appeared in another house.

This went on for several hours. The night seemed to stretch into eternity, and Castiel would not be surprised if Raphael, who was the leader of the operation, was actually keeping dawn at bay until they finished.

Usually, Gabriel led strikes like this, not to mention any major battles against the demons when they became too unruly. However, Gabriel was forced to opt out of leading the charge tonight. According to him, and conveyed through a startled PA, he needed to, "knock some freaking sense" into the "stuttering, jerkbag idiot" that was supposed to be leading the Israelites out of Egypt to their destined country tomorrow. Castiel did not know why Father chose such difficult people to carry out his plans. Then again, that was what made it a miracle, did it not? At this point, it was the 'chosen one's' older sister who was going to be a prophetess, and the man had managed to work his brother into the mix as a 'mouthpiece' as well. He wondered how happy the man's siblings were about that.

He'd mature, Castiel was sure. Probably.

This was the last uncovered house on the street. He entered through the door, sandals scuffing on the slightly uneven ground, and a young child stirred from his position at the base of a reed mat. He held a wooden, child's spear in his hand and quivered with fear. He knew what was coming. Which meant that his mother had as well. But here she slept. Was it pride, ignorance, or negligence that led her to do such a thing?

And there it was again, that surge of emotion Castiel knew he had no right to feel. He pressed it away with a growl of frustration.

He crouched down before the boy, who cowered away from his touch. He could see him? But the boy did not call out. Strange. His soul was a tangle of something… different. Castiel squinted at it. If he was correct, the child had never spoken in his life. _Autism_ , said the part him connected to timestreams. This would be called autism at some point. And it was a rather severe case. He sat down and smiled a bit sadly at the boy. He was shaved bald with strange and beautiful tattoos across his scalp, and he wore nothing but a small tunic. He wiped angrily at tears leaking from his eyes, and Castiel was about to say something when the boy's gaze shifted from Castiel to someone behind him.

Castiel turned.

A woman at the doorway made a hissing noise and batted at the air in front of her. A witch, then. Was she always like this or could she sense him? "Quick, boy," she barked. "Come. Come here. Work tomorrow" The woman's hair was matted and sandy, and she waved a knife around blindly before slicing her arms in quick succession. Castiel's eyes widened. What was she trying to do?

The boy did nothing. He just clutched his spear tighter as crimson welled up and spilled down the woman's arms. "Come, boy!" she cried in a harsh whisper. The mother did not stir across the room. Or if she did, she did not move to stop anything.

The witch began muttering something beneath her breath, and drew on the floor with the cut on her wrist. Castiel stood and frowned at it.

A moment later he recognised the symbol. This was not a banishing spell, but an unusual summoning one. The woman was trying to summon a demon. Why?

The witch walked through Castiel, grabbed the boy by the wrist, and drug him into the middle of the circle.

And something clicked. The boy's eyes were wide on the blood circle, and he was holding that stick so tightly. But it was not because he was afraid of Castiel. He was not hoping to protect himself from the angel, but the demon; a demon who, without a doubt, was summoned here many times.

Anger stirred like a little storm in his chest and before Castiel could stop it, several jars burst, and the air became thick with electricity. The witch shrieked, the boy gripped his stick, the mother in the corner let out a drugged, high pitched giggle, and Castiel cursed.

No. He couldn't do that. If he gave into his emotions, his siblings would discover him. Castiel took a deep breath and without warning, used his foot to smudge out the summoning circle. He glowered at the witch and sent her spinning across the room and into the wall. She hissed dark words at him, and he shut her mouth.

That woman would not use this boy as a parlor trick any more. He would not be the vessel of any demon again. He approached the boy, who could not be more than five, and stretched his hand out. "Come with me. Where I take you, they will never hurt you again. No one will ever hurt you."

The boy considered this, as if to discern whether or not he was speaking truth, before letting out a shuddering breath and stepping away the circle. He grabbed Castiel's hand, and Castiel smiled.

He'd be gentle this time.

Instead of taking the boy's soul. He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were in an unfamiliar scene. It was a sunny cool spring day on a field dotted with trees and the occasional spring. It was an eternal Tuesday. He looked down at the boy whose physical form had been shed on the journey.

"Where am I?" said the boy. The tangle that had been his soul slowly slid into place and the pain he endured to speak, to look up, to communicate, disappeared.

"Heaven," Castiel answered. On the floor, a rudimentary kite appeared at the boy's feet. The boy looked at it curiously before smiling. Time did not work the same in Heaven as on Earth. Everything existed at once rather than one at a time. Meaning, Castiel could go find a spaceship in some Heaven of a particularly imaginative individual who had always dreamed of exploring the stars.

The boy picked up the kite and tied the end of the string to the stick he'd been holding so tightly. A wind ruffled their clothes, and the kite lifted into the sky. The boy laughed delightedly and Castiel smiled. "If you wish to play with other children, the door to their… ah, _homes_ , are through those two trees." He wasn't sure why he told the boy that. Technically, souls were supposed to stay in their respective heavens. But… it was the least he could do.

This was ok. It was sad, certainly, but the boy would be much happier here. Death was not an end, like so many thought. It was just the beginning of another chapter. He was beginning to be steady again. Heaven had a way of steadying a person.

He moved back to leave, but the boy caught his hand. He looked up with pleading brown eyes. "You'll visit me?"

Castiel nodded without thinking. "Yes. I will visit you."

The boy smiled and went back to his kite, which now soared above them. He let out a whoop and raced down a grassy hill.

Castiel watched. His stomach churned uneasily.

He closed his eyes and appeared again on Earth. Unfortunately, his moment of stability seemed to be just that; a moment.

Immediately, emotions that Heaven muted came roaring back, and, this time, he stumbled beneath them, cursing under his breath. What _was_ this? His knees hit the dirt, and a whirlwind blew out any of the torches lighting the night. The sky rumbled above him. So much for laying low.

Castiel took in a stuttering breath and crouched on the floor. Waves of grief and relief and anger and desire and confusion and fear rushed through him all at once. It was getting worse. _He_ was getting worse.

Suddenly, he felt the arrival of several of his siblings. They closed up their wings and were coming this way. He… he needed to pull himself together. Before they saw him like this. Whatever this was.

Taking in a breath not much different than one the autistic boy had only a few minutes before, Castiel closed his eyes and stood. He waited for the roaring sea to calm before exhaling.

When he opened his eyes, everything looked normal again, including himself. Several angels rounded a corner, slightly peeved. Castiel knew a few of them, and others he did not.

"Castiel," said a tall, Egyptian woman. She stepped forward and studied him. "What are you doing?"

"I have finished my section," he stated truthfully.

She nodded. There was something calculating in her gaze that Castiel did not like in the least. "Well then, you will not mind finishing the house just there?"

She knew. Castiel's stomach dropped. Somehow she knew.

The other angels seemed to lose interest. They wandered off to finish their duties. Castiel nodded in consent, but his chest did a flip, and he winced. What was that one? Guilt or fear or just irritation? It was difficult to tell. He didn't have enough experience with this. What he did know what that no matter how much the Egyptians deserved his cursed night, he did not want to reap any more souls tonight. Deserving the punishment didn't make dueling it out easier.

Naomi watched him like a school teacher watched a particularly idiotic child. "Hmm. Well then, go on."

Castiel clenched his jaw and walked rather than flew to the house.

He stopped before the doorframe, confused. He turned back. "Naomi, they are Israelites. They covered their door."

And they had. Blood was dried across it. Naomi crossed her arms and came closer. She inspected the blood covering, and then tisked her tongue. "Look here." She pointed at the edge. They had not connected the stripes, and the entire door was not covered. She sighed. " _Honestly_. Humans. Can't follow even the simplest instructions. Unfortunately, our orders are to take the firstborn son of any creature whose door is not covered. And that… is not covered."

Castiel blinked. What?

"Well? Do it. Reap the boy."

The charged emotions in his stomach gave another violent leap, and he stepped back, the confusion he felt became repulsion just as quick. "They did as they were asked. They are good people. They do not deserve the curse."

Naomi raised an eyebrow. "Is that a no?"

"Yes." Castiel crossed his arms. "I… I mean, _yes_ , I won't do it." A distant part of him was terrified because this was _exactly_ the behavior that got him in trouble. Every. Single. Time. But whatever work of his Father had done when Castiel was created seemed to doom him to this cycle of… what even was it? Humanity? Pieces of it? He wasn't human but he sure felt like one right now and how did that make any sense at all? Why was he the only one who had to keep doing this? Why couldn't he just do his job like everyone else? There was a big picture. Why couldn't he see the big picture everyone was always talking about?

Naomi sneered. Castiel hardly heard her, jittery on a high of indignation and shock. Indignation that she would consider doing such a thing and _how did he used to think this was okay?_ and shock that he had actually told her "no" to her face. Since when was he so brave? "You will do as I say, Castiel."

"No. This is not what Father meant. It is supposed to be mercy. We are _saving_ them. We are their shepherds."

Inside the house, people stirred and then settled. Morning would arrive soon. Or perhaps they could feel the angels outside. Could they sense the tense argument? Above them, the sky stirred and lightning flashed. Was it Castiel's doing or Naomi's? He wasn't sure (then again, given his current state of insanity, he figured it had to be him).

Naomi quivered with anger. Or was it, in fact, anger? Could she feel anger like he felt it right now?

All at once, Naomi pushed past him into the house. "Fine. I'll do it."

"No." Castiel appeared in front of her, and she scowled. A young mother was seated on the floor asleep with her child in her arms. Absolutely not. There was not a chance Naomi would curse this family based on a technicality. He'd deal with the consequences later.

"Let me pass."

"No."

Naomi drew her sword quicker than Castiel could see, and, all at once, he was pressed against the wall with the sword at his throat. "You are always getting in the way, did you know that? Every single time you have to go and ruin everything."

Castiel frowned but did not move. He was very aware of the sword at his neck and fear reared its head to such a degree he flinched in pain from its intensity, which only caused the sword to nick him. He hissed, and Naomi rolled her eyes. Thunder cracked outside.

"You are lucky someone up high wants to 'fix' you. If it was up to me, I would have gotten rid of you ages ago. Faulty machinery. Sometimes it's just not worth it to fix up the old model."

Castiel glared and was about to shove her back when a warmth settled on the room. It became uncomfortably hot and increasingly bright and both angels froze. Naomi spat something nasty.

Suddenly the light and heat receded and bunched up to form an irritated figure. He leaned back against a wall casually and crossed his arms. "Really folks, are you _trying_ to get on another flood. I mean, as fun as that was, this is Egypt. They aren't supposed to get tropical hurricanes, and bro, we could just have a pool party without all the hype, ya know?"

Castiel blinked.

That was… was that _Gabriel_? Like, _the_ Gabriel. Castiel received orders from him, but had never seen him this close before. Gabriel tucked his various pairs of gold wings neatly behind his back. He was a blonde, wearing an unassuming tunic with dark pants and… red, laced up shoes that certainly did not exist for several dozen centuries yet. He gave Naomi a pointed look. She lowered her sword to her side reluctantly. "Sire, I-"  
"Hush," he snapped. "I'll deal with you. Now what the heck is going on here?"

"Castiel was-"  
Gabriel rolled his eyes. " _La-dy_. Not you." He cocked his eyebrow at Castiel, who took a moment to find his words in his shock. "Why is she trying to shishkebab your noggin?"

"She was going to take the child because they _accidentally_ did not cover the entire door. I was attempting to stop her."

Gabriel's face went through a series of phases too quick for Castiel to decipher. He settled on a snort and glanced down at her blade. "Real successful on the whole 'stopping her' thing, yeah?"

"The child is still alive, is he not?" Castiel spat a bit irritably. He blanched, realizing who he'd spoken to, but Gabriel laughed.

"Whaddayaknow? An angel with spine. Nice to know they exist."

"He refuses to follow orders, sire. Again." Naomi spoke up.

Again?

The morning sun was drifting with a washed out, grey light through a curtained window. The girl with the baby still did not wake.

Meanwhile, Gabriel turned his gaze on Naomi and gave her a ' _really?'_ look. "Don't be a prick Naomi. Morning is here anyhow. You can't take the boy."

Castiel could feel Naomi quivering next to him, clearly furious. "Alright," she said with forced calm.

Gabriel watched her for a second with distaste. "Yeah, so… since this is all taken care of here, and the night is over, we're doing a recall. Talked to Mosey-posey, and he's finally worked up the courage to talk to his peeps without brothy there." He rolled his eyes, but it was good natured and without any real malice. "So if you don't mind, let… what's your name kid?"

"Castiel."

"Let Cassie here go home. He's done well. Kay, Naomi?"

Naomi nodded sharply. With a click of his fingers, Gabriel was gone. At the same instant, the woman with the baby woke up and rubbed her eyes. Castiel moved to pass Naomi, but she grabbed him by the arm. Castiel frowned at her. "You heard him, Naomi."

Naomi nodded. "I have orders from higher up than Gabriel."

Before Castiel could ask what that meant, Naomi twisted her sword into his side and Castiel screamed. A flash of the girl he'd promised to return this vessel to came to his mind. He couldn't get him killed. He refused. On an ordinary occasion, Castiel realized he would be less than apathetic, but… not right now. Right now he was smack dab in the middle of an emotional 'episode' that apparently was a real thing he did, and he'd be damned (literally) before he broke his promise. In order that the vessel would not be harmed more than it was, Castiel fled from the man and into Heaven. He'd survive. This, unfortunately, was exactly what Naomi wanted and Castiel knew it.

She waited for him with a smug smile. He opened his eyes to a white room. In the middle of the room was a strapped table. He scrambled back from the unfamiliar thing, knowing instantly that he _did not_ want to be in here.

"Not so fast, Castiel," Naomi murmured. Her voice was silky soft. She gave him a smile and placed a hand on his cheek. Just as sweetly, she continued to speak. "I knew it had been too long. But you were doing so _good_." She stroked the side of his face, and Castiel found he could not move. She sighed sadly. "Don't worry though. I'll have you fixed up in just a bit."

She guided him to the table, and Castiel could not resist even though everything in him demanded that he fly away from here and never look back. He lay down on the cold metal and shivered and Naomi looked down at him with a smile even as she lifted up a long, thin needle. "This will all be over, Castiel."

The world faded to white.

* * *

After reassuring Miriam that the plan was _not_ , in fact, to get them all killed by putting her baby brother in charge, Gabriel gave her a wink, which she returned with an eye roll, and he returned to Heaven.

He opened his eyes and then paused, confused.

This… was not usually where he ended up. Most of the time, he arrived in, like, Heaven's archangel hotel or something. There were usually lots of absolutely _no one_ , heated pools, a bunch of peace and quiet, and bits and pieces Dad thought he might want to work on inventing. It was pretty darn cool if he said so himself, and he just had to deal with the occasional idiot like that Naomi chick. Oh, and his older brothers. But whatever.

So… landing in the middle of some random as heck, boring field was weird. Like, really weird. Why was he sent here?

"Uh, Dad, I think you got the wrong adre- Oh! Yo, you! Any idea where the door out of here is?" He jogged toward the person he'd spotted. He was more likely to get a legit response out of a physical person.

A little Egyptian boy without a shirt lay on his back and busily put together what looked like a kite. He looked up at Gabriel curiously. "Trees, I think," he said with a shrug. "Castiel knows."

Castiel… Why was that name familiar?

Right. That was the name of that kid who stopped Naomi. "Where is he?" Gabriel asked, sensing the reason for his impromptu trip to this particular eternal Tuesday.

The boy pointed down toward a bunch of trees, and Gabriel spotted a young-ish man with dark hair and white, impersonal, clothes seated on a park bench. He stared ahead at nothing. And there was something… wrong about the way he was seated. It wasn't something Gabriel could pin down. Chewing his lip, he conjured a piece of something to sweet to suck on out of habit. He walked to the man. Without hesitation, he slid down next to the other angel and rested his hand behind them on the back of a park bench that currently did not exist in the real world yet. "So," he said, taking another bite out of the sweet mess he'd made (he had no idea what it was but it was delicious). "Whatcha you looking at?"

"The bees," the angel answered quietly. "I like this Heaven. It's calm… I need calm."

Gabriel snorted. Then he paused and glanced at Castiel. "You're serious. You're just sitting here… watching fake insects. Contentedly."

Castiel frowned, and his gaze crawled to Gabriel. "I do not joke."

Now, that wasn't right. The kid Gabriel saw just a while ago had been a trouble maker. He could sense it. It was one of those mutual mischief-maker things, he reasoned. And… while Castiel hadn't seemed like a comedian, he certainly was capable of understanding sarcasm.

Gabriel nodded slowly. "Gotcha. Okay. So… if I happened to make mention about how red Naomi's face got when I roasted her stuck up butt, you… wouldn't find that funny… At all. Wow."

The angel only looked confused. On several levels. "I… don't understand. Angels do not blush, and I cannot imagine you cooking her or when you would have-"

Gabriel waved his words away. "Okay, Amelia Bedelia. No sarcasm or, what, figures of speech? You seemed to understand me when we spoke last."

Castiel blinked too slowly. He cocked his head in a puppy-like fashion. "I have never met you, sir."

"Did you… did you just call me _sir_?"

"Yes?"

"Look, man. I am not, and never will be, a sir. Don't you remember me?"

"No."

But, we met, like, only a few hours ago!" Gabriel threw his hands in the air. "I came in and saved your frying bottom from hot-headed prick chick? You were saving the baby? Egypt? Plagues? None of this is ringing a bell!"

Castiel smiled easily, as if to calm him. He patted Gabriel's hand 'comfortingly'. "I am afraid you have me mixed up with someone else, sir. I am on probation. I am not allowed out of heaven until further improvement."

Gabriel just stared at him, just mind spinning in a million directions. "What!"

Suddenly, Castiel stood and left the bench. He patted the small child that this Heaven belonged to on the head. "I have to go now. Thank you for letting me sit here."

"Maybe when you're feeling better we can fly kites?"

"Maybe."

With that, he walked in between two trees slightly bent toward each other and disappeared.

Gabriel watched, open mouthed. What just happened?  
"He is not like other angels."

Gabriel nearly off the bench when his older brother appeared beside him. "Don't _do_ that, Raph."

Raphael raised an eyebrow. "My name is Raphael and if you could struggle to the end of it, it would be greatly appreciated."

Gabriel rolled his eyes and steadied himself, brushing off his clothes. "Whatever. What do you mean he's not like other angels? What's wrong with him? I was just on Egypt with the guy like five seconds ago, and he doesn't _remember_. And he's being all… I dunno, _weird_. What is going-?"

Raphael pinched between his eyebrows. "For Father's sake, Gabriel, talk _less_. We have spoken on this."

"Just get to the point."

Raphael shifted his weight and squinted thoughtfully in the direction Castiel had gone. "Castiel was a mistake. He is broken and must be repaired at regular intervals."

"That still does not tell me what is wrong with him. What did you do to him?" Gabriel's voice took on a gravely, dangerous tone to which Raphael responded with disapproving frown.

"I did nothing to him, Gabriel. He gets himself worked up and soon after, breaks down. His mind rewinds, and he ends up… the way you saw him for a while. Then, he will recover."

"But he'll get his memory back, yeah?"

Raphael shook his head. "No. What he chooses to erase is gone forever."

Gabriel pursed his lips and watched thoughtfully the place Castiel had disappeared. Raphael's explanation made sense. It was horrible and kinda sick, but at least they were keeping the guy alive and safe. Gabriel sighed. "There's nothing you can do to fix him?"

Raphael's eyes were genuinely sorrowful. "There is nothing."

"That sucks butt."

"Language, Gabriel."

Gabriel ignored him. Saddened, but satisfied by the explanation, Gabriel stood up and stretched his back dramatically. "Welp. I'm sure you've got lots of boring stuff to take care of."

"As a matter of fact, I do." Raphael stood and studied his younger brother. "Gabriel, for Castiel's own good, do not dig into this. He becomes embarrassed once he is back to himself and realizes how he has acted after his episodes."

Gabriel considered this. Fair enough. The guy had it rough as it was.

He was about to make a comment when suddenly a voice came on over the… whatever it was people used to contact them.

Miriam's voice, steady but clearly laced with panic, whispered in his ears. "If anyone can hear me, there's an army at our heels, and we're on the shore of an ocean, and I really, _really_ hope there is some kind of plan to deal with this…"

Gabriel felt a slight nudge he knew to be his Father. Alrighty then. He snickered. "Nice chat, bro. Gotta fly. People to save, glory to give, ya know, the usual."

Raphael just shook his head.

With a thought, Gabriel settled next to Miriam and Moses amid the chaos of a panicking people group. "So, kiddos, here's how this is going to work…"

Gabriel did not think about the strange angel he met that night in Egypt. He did not think about him for a long time, and when he did, it was only to wonder if they guy had gotten any better…

And Castiel kept returning the the Eternal Tuesday Afternoon of that little boy. And at some point, he'd loose that Heaven. He'd find one again, though. It was no longer a little boy's, it was a different little girl's. And then it was a young woman. And then it was an old man who drowned in a bathtub in nineteen fifty-three. He kept returning because he promised. He promised... someone that he would.

By the time Gabriel knew the truth, (and, as usual, it was much uglier than he'd ever imagined) it was much too late to do anything about it. And Gabriel was too tired of breaking up squabbles to care.

But that was okay, because, as it turned out, it wasn't Gabriel's destiny to save Castiel. That was the job of two trigger-happy, monster hunters with way too much attitude and curiosity for their own good. In the end, it was the Winchesters that saved Castiel.

* * *

AN: Thanks for reading. Please leave a review. This is my first Supernatural story so I hope you guys like it.


End file.
